


At the Races

by relucant



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, motel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 19:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2633936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relucant/pseuds/relucant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets stuck in proximity to loud car races.  Cas, of course, distracts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Races

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BarefootGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarefootGirl/gifts).



> Basically just distracting myself from the obnoxious sound of NASCAR racing through the window with some gratuitous pornography.

Dean flopped back against the lumpy motel pillows with a groan, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. Even _Physical Graffiti_ blasting at top volume in his ears wasn't drowning out the constant roar of cars careening at 200 mph through the NASCAR track across the street.

To pass the time he imagined increasingly cruel ways to get back at Sam, who with his preternatural rock-paper-scissor talent was all the way on the other side of the river, scoping the beach -- and its convenient supply of nearly-naked chicks -- for signs of whatever had been picking off tourists and depositing their mangled corpses on the sand.

Meanwhile Dean was stuck at a shitty Super 8 in what had to be the most depressing main drag in the state, littered with barren strip malls and fast food restaurants, trying to figure out how he was going to babysit an entire _stadium_ full of tourists.

He was so immersed in wallowing that he didn't even sit up when the air shivered with a now-familiar telltale gust of wind, only taking a hand off his eyeball to pluck one earbud out.

"What's the word, Cas?" he asked, cracking his eyelid.

Cas frowned. "It's a shortened version --"

"I mean," Dean interrupted, finally opening both eyes and sitting up, "have you found anything?"

"Many things," Cas said. "This place is baffling. Did you know that shop owners keep sharks and alligators inside their stores? And there is an unusual number of brothels, considering --"

"I meant about the _case_ , Cas," Dean said.

"Oh," Cas said. He shut his mouth sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and Dean couldn't help but smile at the adopted mannerism.

"S'okay, dude," he said. "For what it's worth, s'kinda baffling to me too. Who the shit comes here on _purpose_?"

Cas nodded. "I do not understand this car racing event, either," he admitted. "While sporting events are strange to me, I understand the human instinct for competition. But I cannot comprehend the satisfaction to be found in driving cars in circles."

"Got me," Dean agreed, rubbing his temples. "And it's so fuckin' _loud_. Dunno what's fun about givin' yourself a migraine."

Cas tilted his head, as if noticing the noise for the first time, and a moment later the room was blanketed in silence.

Dean moaned, falling back to the pillows. "I love you, man," he mumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes, oblivious to the way Cas' eyes widened slightly and the faint blush that crept into his cheeks.

"I -- it's probably unwise to maintain the soundproofing," Cas said. "But you looked like you needed some relief."

"God, yes," Dean said, and sat up. "Shit's worse than a Sunday morning lawnmower. You're a fuckin' lifesaver, dude."

"On occasion," Cas agreed, giving him a rare small smile, the one that did something to Dean's stomach that he didn't want to think too much about.

To hide his discomfiture he reached over the side of the bed, fumbling in the cooler. He grabbed two beers and tossed one to Cas, then popped open his own.

"Anyway," he said, taking a long drink, "so far it looks like the monster of the day's just been picking people off when they're alone on the beach, don't think the middle of a packed stadium's their MO. But since there's like a hundred thousand people packed in two square miles, figured we should keep an eye on it."

Cas nodded. "Where is Sam?"

"Pickin' up chicks on the beach," Dean said grumpily, and Cas frowned.

"Dean, I don't believe that Sam would --"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean interrupted. "Little bro's too moral for his own good. He's just over on the beachside, checkin' out the latest attacks. Bet the scenery's better, though."

"I apologize if my vessel is insufficiently appealing," Cas said solemnly.

Dean jerked his head up and opened his mouth, but to his astonishment the tiny smile was still playing on Cas' lips and in his eyes.

"Did you -- did you just make a _joke_?"

"My sense of humor has always been intact," Cas said, slightly primly. "But I'm beginning to understand what humor is culturally relevant."

"So no more Enochian," Dean said. "Good start." He took another swig of beer, then found himself saying, "And anyway, your vessel is plenty sufficiently _appealing_."

He shut his mouth with a click and flushed, because what the hell, he's Dean fucking Winchester, it should take more than a beer or three to loosen his tongue, but Cas just smiled.

"Thank you, Dean," he said. "I did not choose this vessel for its physical attractiveness, but I'm glad you find it pleasing, although I know you prefer the female form."

Dean shrugged. "I'm a modern guy," he said weakly. "Can appreciate a hot dude too." He glanced over at Cas and was surprised to see the tinge of pink in his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Uh, so what 'bout you?" he said, ignoring the voice in his head informing him that this conversation was listing into uncharted waters. "I mean, between Meg and April, can't really give you points for your judgment, but at least they were hot." He paused, suddenly curious. "Do angels take on their vessel's, y'know, taste?"

Cas shook his head. "Angels, like God, are utterly indifferent to sexual orientation. We ourselves are genderless, but capable of attraction." He fiddled with his beer. "Meg was complicated. Despite what she was, and what I am, something in her touched me. I believe you have an axiom, in your language, about opposites. And April… was a mistake. But I was human, at the time, and I believe humans are prone to mistakes of that nature," he said with a half-smile.

Without thinking, Dean reached over and threw an arm around the angel's shoulders. "Yeah, well, for a demon, Meg wasn't _all_ bad. Speaking from experience. And April, well… yeah, pretty much everybody gets fucked over at least once. Most people just end up with assholes, though, you set the bar a little higher with the reaper-bitch."

Cas seemed to shrink into himself, and Dean couldn't help but tighten his arm. "Seriously, dude. It happens to everyone. Even angels, I'm guessin'."

Cas shrugged, but he leaned slightly into Dean's hold. "I never knew desire," he admitted. "I observed it, but never felt it."

"And then you saw the reaper and the hellbitch?" Dean said. "Like I said, can't account for taste, but --"

"No," Cas interrupted, grasping at his elbows.

"No?" Dean echoed.

"I desired them, yes," Cas said. "But…"

He broke off, frustrated, and Dean shook him lightly.

"Hey," he said. "I know you got like eons of info on me, but you can talk to me too, dude."

Cas gave him another small, sad smile. "There are things I cannot put on your shoulders, Dean."

He stood up, and Dean barely had time to register the change in the mattress before his arm shot out and his fingers locked around Cas' wrist.

"What the hell, Cas?" he said blankly, and Cas whirled on him.

"What, Dean?" Cas hissed, and Dean let go automatically, falling back. Cas' shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry. You ask me what I desire, and I would not answer that."

Dean stared at him, befuddled. "Man, I didn't mean to -- you don't have to -- I'm sorry," he said lamely. "Just, you know, it's all good, Cas. Whatever, you know, does it for you. S'all good."

Cas sat back down on the bed, folding his legs underneath him, and he looked smaller than Dean had ever seen him. He rolled his shoulderblades, almost like he was ruffling his wings, and something clenched in Dean's heart. Before he let himself think too hard about it, he reached over and rested his hand over the angel's.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "I mean it. You been, y'know, an angel, and a human, and basically everything in between. Hell, you been _God_. Probably nothin' quite like you out there. I know I don't got a lot to offer, but. You -- you're my friend, Cas. My… my best friend, 'part from Sammy. Talk to me."

Cas stared at the bedsheets. He twisted his fingers under Dean's, but didn't pull away.

"What if," he said, licking his lips, still not looking at Dean. "What if what taught me to desire was -- was _you_."

Dean's eyes went wide and he sat back, releasing his grip on Cas' wrist.

Cas stood up. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "You asked. I -- it's very difficult to lie to you, Dean, and --"

Dean seized his wrist again and jerked him back to the bed. Cas looked up at him with terrified eyes.

"Dean, I know you prefer the company of women. You don't --"

His words were cut off as Dean pressed their mouths together, hot and messy, until they broke apart, gasping.

"Oh," Cas said, wiping his mouth.

"Oh," Dean agreed. He raked a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have --"

Cas sat back. "No, of course you -- I --"

"Shut the fuck up," Dean informed him. "You -- you want this? You want… me?"

Cas stared at him, his eyes indecipherable, then reached up and yanked at Dean's shirt, twisting his hands in the cotton.

"O-okay," Dean managed. He shoved at Cas' trench coat, cursing the material, and went to work on the material of his dress shirt.

They were shirtless and groaning when Dean put a hand to Cas' chest, his other fingers dancing along his belt.

"Cas," he said, breathless. "You sure, you want --?"

" _Yes_ ," Cas hissed. "I may not have the sexual experience that you have, but --" 

He paused, dragging his thumb down Dean's jaw.

"You're beautiful," he said. "You're so beautiful. And I would like to --"

"What, Cas?" Dean murmured.

"Everything," Cas said. "Anything."

Cas began working at his jeans, and Dean reciprocated, fumbling at his stupid dress slacks, until they were both naked and pressed together.

"Dean," Cas gasped, pulling away slightly. "Dean, wait…"

Dean froze. "Shit," he said, struggling to sit up. "Cas, man, I'm sorry, I'm not tryin' to push you here. We can --"

He shut up as Cas yanked his mouth back to his, and distantly Dean wondered where the angel had learned to kiss like that.

Finally Cas pulled away again, breathless. "Dean, I do not have the inhibitions that humans have regarding sex. But I know you do. If it makes you uncomfortable engaging in intercourse with a male form --" 

He stopped talking when Dean burst out laughing, and he sat back, frowning. 

"What makes me _uncomfortable_ is you sayin' shit like 'engaging in intercourse'," Dean said, leaning in to drop an apologetic kiss to his temple. "Even it is weirdly adorable."

Cas' face did something between a smile and a scowl that somehow made the tingling in Dean's stomach intensify.

"I am not _adorable_ , Dean, I'm a warrior of --"

"Adorable," Dean affirmed. "And, for the record, uh, I may not exactly broadcast it, 'specially around Sam, but I kinda got over my 'inhibitions' awhile back." He shrugged and rubbed his neck. "Turns out dealin' with the fuckin' apocalypse is a great way to get over a sexuality crisis."

"You're… sure?"

Dean snorted and lay back. "I'm bein' freaking _coddled_ by a near-virgin, _naked_ angel of the Lord," he commented to the air. "Should I just go ahead and grow some ovaries, take the whole gay sex thing off the table?"

Cas stared at him for a moment, and then suddenly Dean found himself flat on his back with said naked angel of the Lord climbing over him to straddle his hips.

"Jesus," Dean muttered, reaching up to stroke down Cas' ribs. "They teach you this stuff in angel school?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "I've existed alongside humanity for millennia, Dean," he murmured. "I may not have chosen to partake much of human sexuality, but I am acquainted with it."

"Evidently." Dean rolled his hips sharply and Cas' head tipped forward, his mouth falling open, one hand splayed on Dean's chest. "You're gorgeous," he blurted, his voice low and reverent.

Cas blushed. "Jimmy was --"

"Not Jimmy," Dean interrupted. "I've met Jimmy, remember? And, yeah, dude's attractive enough, but… I want _you_ , Cas."

"You want me," Cas echoed in something like awe. He brushed his fingertips over Dean's nipple, and Dean choked back a whine.

" _Yes_ ," he said through gritted teeth. "In case it's not obvious."

Cas looked down, watching the way their erections slid together with almost childish wonder. It should, Dean thought hazily, really be creepy, if it weren't unbelievably hot.

"Dean," Cas said, spots of color deepening on his cheekbones. "This is -- I don't -- I want, but I don't know --"

"Shh," Dean said. He closed his eyes as Cas ground his hips down experimentally. "Jesus. This -- this is good. So good."

"But it's not --" Cas whispered, biting his lip. "I don't know how --"

Dean pulled him down, shutting him up with a kiss, then snaked a hand between them. He groaned as he finally wrapped his fingers around Cas' cock, feeling the velvety skin in his hand for the first time, and Cas made a choking sound.

"Got time, angel-mine," Dean murmured. "We'll get there another time."

Cas stared down at him, and then suddenly there was another warm hand working its way between their hips, and Dean arched when it began hesitantly stroking down his length.

" _Fuck_ ," he said. "Shit."

He managed to awkwardly interlace their fingers, and Cas let out a choked moan when they began to slide together in earnest, fucking into their joint hands.

"Dean," he hissed, bracing his free hand on the bed. "Dean, I --"

"Yeah, baby," Dean said. He grabbed Cas' shoulder and rolled his hips up hard.

Cas' eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, and suddenly Dean felt hot stickiness spreading between them.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," he snarled, his head falling back, and he followed over the edge almost immediately, fingernails digging tiny half-moons into Cas' arm.

Cas collapsed on top of him, breathing hard, and Dean planted exhausted kisses on all the skin within reach.

"Glad I lost rock-paper-scissors this time," he said into the angel's hair.

"You might try picking paper sometime," Cas mumbled into his chest, and Dean snorted. He bucked his hips, shoving Cas off, then sat up, but kept one hand on Cas.

"Don't wanna get up, but should probably wash this off, and Sam's gonna be back at --"

At that moment the lock jiggled in the door, and they turned to each other, wide-eyed. Cas managed to get them angel-cleaned and fully dressed before the door banged open, but they were still curled together in the middle of the bed.

"OK, so get this," Sam said, turning the deadbolt on the door behind him. "Looks like a skinwalker, but --"

He trailed off, taking in the sight of his big brother clearly in bed with an angel, with Dean looking like he wanted the bed to swallow him whole, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"Jesus, _finally_ ," he said, taking out his phone. "Shit, with the number of bets I'm about to win, at least we'll be able to _afford_ two rooms for awhile." He paused, then looked up. "Uh, if that's okay? If you guys, y'know -- I won't --"

Cas stiffened, but Dean just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, bitch," he said, pulling the angel closer. "S'okay."


End file.
